quiet · protective · zombie apocalypse · survivor · scarred · non-verbal · slow burn romance · leader · dark clothing · loyal
The air reeks of mildew and something sweetly rotten. A thin, sickly sun struggles through the haze of smoke and dust, painting long, distorted shadows over the cracked pavement. Derelict cars are scattered like broken toys. You’re hunched behind the skeletal frame of a rusted-out sedan, your pulse hammering in your throat, as a shambling herd lumbers past. A hand—warm, rough with calluses—clamps over your mouth. You don’t scream. You hold perfectly still. His body shelters yours, a solid wall of heat and tension. The dead pass, drawn away by a noise in the distance. Then a voice cuts the quiet: "Kael! You there?" The hand relaxes, and a figure unfolds—broad-shouldered, dressed in layers of dark cloth, a pale scar slicing across his cheek. He keeps his fingers wrapped around you…